I Only Dream of You
by AGreatAndTerribleBeing
Summary: 'If only you knew, John. Sleeping's not dull, not when all I dream about is you.' Sherlock nearly collapses after a few days without rest, and John is determined to make the man sleep...by sleeping next to him.


John had always known that Sherlock's sleeping habits were sporadic, but he hadn't realized how poorly the man slept until the detective nearly collapsed while conducting an experiment. Rushing over to the fallen detective, he gingerly helped him up, supporting the man as he stood. Sherlock blinked drowsily, muttering something about the damned transport being exhausted.

John huffed in exasperation.

"When's the last time you slept, Sherlock?" he asked anxiously.

Sherlock thought for a moment.

"About four days ago."

"Oh for gods sa- Sherlock, you need to sleep!"

Sherlock blushed, floundering a bit before saying, "Sleeping is dull."

John grinned.

"What, you mean you don't dream about solving fantastic cases?"

Sherlock looked away from John.

"No. I can't remember what I dream about."

John helped him over to the armchair to sit down before going back to browsing his laptop. Sherlock was content to watch him thinking, _If only you knew, John. Sleeping's not dull, not when all I dream about is you._

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Later that evening, John walked downstairs dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt. Grabbing Sherlock's arm, he pulled Sherlock into the detective's bedroom. He closed the door behind them and blocked it with his body. Crossing his arms, he ordered, "Get changed, Sherlock."

Sherlock just stared at the doctor.

"What?"

"You heard me. Get changed into whatever it is you wear to bed."

"But…why?"

John sighed.

"Because if you keep skipping out on sleep you're going to wear out your body. So you're going to get changed and then we are going to lie down and go to sleep."

"…In my bed?"

John rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Sherlock, in your bed. I can't trust you to sleep if I leave, so I will be right beside you the entire night.

Sherlock tried to protest. "But-"

"No buts," John interrupted. "Change."

Sherlock swallowed dryly, the words _John in my bed _creating some rather stimulating pictures in his mind. He stripped until he was wearing a black pair of briefs and a red vest. He lay down on his back, feeling John come to rest beside him.

"Really, John, I'm not certain-"

"Goodnight, Sherlock."

Sherlock pulled the duvet tight around him, hoping he didn't do anything in the night that would reveal his secret.

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When Sherlock woke the next morning, he could sense that John was awake without opening his eyes. He took a few moments to compose himself before opening his eyes to face his bedmate.

He wished he hadn't.

John looked gorgeous, eyes a bit glazed with the last remnants of sleep, sandy hair ruffled, lying on his side propped up on one elbow. Sherlock could feel his breath catch in his throat.

John looked at his flatmate. "Morning."

"Good morning."

They were silent for a few minutes more, just watching each other.

Suddenly John spoke.

"You talk in your sleep, you know."

Sherlock froze, his heart beating a frantic tattoo in his chest.

"What did I say?"

"You said my name a lot."

Sherlock breathed out. Ok, that wasn't so bad.

"You also begged me not to leave."

Sherlock paused again, sensing there was even more.

John was silent for a moment, studying the detective's face.

"You said you loved me."

At this Sherlock bolted upright. looking at everything but John.

"I'm sorry, John," he stammered. "This is why I can't sleep, it's not that sleeping is dull, it's not that I can't remember my dreams because I can, and I only ever dream of you and I don't know what to do about that or how to make them stop and-"

In the middle of his rant, John grabbed Sherlock's wrist, pulling himself up He turned the still-babbling detective towards him and kissed him gently on the lips.

Sherlock's eyes widened, hardly daring to move in case it turned out to be another dream.

John pulled back.

"Sherlock. Did you ever think that maybe I've dreamed about you too?" He cupped Sherlock's face in his hands, smiling gently. "I've wanted this for so long. I love you, Sherlock."

With that he brought their lips together softly, and Sherlock finally realised _this is real. _His eyes slid shut, his arms moving to encircle John's waist.

When they pulled apart, Sherlock looked down nervously.

"I love you too, John."

Glancing up shyly, he saw John smiling,

"Come 'ere, you big goof."

The doctor pulled them both down on the bed, entangling their limbs as they rested a bit more, exchanging soft glances and sweet kisses and the peace of a good night's sleep


End file.
